Fallback Moments
by Nix1978
Summary: Series of stories based on my other fic 'Fallback' in which Derek & Emily are having a long term 'friends with benefits' relationship... There will be many ups and downs. Good times and angst. The chapters will be in random order and the majority will be tags to episodes. Now M rated
1. Demonology 4x17

**This chapter is the first in a series of chaoters based on my fic 'Fallback'. You don't have to have read it to read this, but if you have the time, it may be worth it. But for those who haven't the basic idea is that Derek and Emily have been having a 'relationship' since not long after she joined the BAU. It's not a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, but they basically keep going back to each other, convincing themselves it's nothing more than 'friends with benefits'. There's a bit more to it, but it's too much to explain (read Fallback ;))**

**_Chapter 1: Demonology 4x17_  
**

"_Let's get him out of here." Hotch said, taking the arm of Father Silvaro and guiding him away._

_As her partner turned to walk away, the words fell out of her mouth, "Thank you." She called to him._

_He immediately turned to face her, a serious stare boring into her for a short while and she wondered what he was thinking, but then he spoke, "Always." He uttered with conviction, continuing to stare her._

_She felt a little jolt shoot through her chest; He had no idea what that word meant to her, but she knew what it meant to him…_

~~CM~~

She took the final sip from the hot coffee cup she had had her hands wrapped around for the past half hour.

"You done with that Miss?" The silver haired man asked, stopping momentarily from mopping the floor of the otherwise empty café.

"Yes, thank you." She smiled, "What time is it please?"

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Nearly half past midnight."

"That late?" She said surprised, "I better be getting out of your way."

"Oh no rush dear. I'm open for another hour, but it is late. Don't tell me you have no man at home waiting for you. No one wondering where you are?"

Emily looked downward, a shy, tiny smile forming on her lips, "No." She uttered.

The old man shook his head, "What is wrong with young men nowadays? There is something wrong when a lovely thing like you hasn't got someone waiting for her at home."

"Thank you." She said warmly, "But I really am fine."

"If you say so." He chuckled with a wink before continuing along the length of the deserted café.

She began to stand, picking her coat from the back of her seat.

"Oh, let me." The man said returning to her and taking the jacket from her hands. He held it up and she slipped her arms in.

"Thank you. I guess you're one of the few gentlemen left eh?" She laughed lightly.

"There's no other way to treat a lady like you Miss."

"Emily." She said

"What?"

"My name is Emily." She told him, turning to face him as she did up the buttons of her coat.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Emily." He replied with a tiny bow of his head, "Now make sure you wrap up warm. It's pretty bleak out there. You haven't got far to go have you?"

"No. Not too far."

"Take care Emily."  
"You too George." She said glancing at the name badge pinned to his shirt, before making her way outside into the snow still beating down.

~~CM~~

She had walked for twenty minutes, but it felt like two hours. The snow was coming down harder and she could barely feel her hands or toes. She felt a small wave of relief flow over her as she turned the corner and her apartment building came into view.

Encouraged, she picked up her pace, rummaging around in her pocket for keys, her fingers barely functioning from the bitter cold. As she found them and looked back up towards the front door, she saw a figure sat in the entrance way, back against the wall, arms wrapped around himself and head bowed down.

She rolled her eyes with a concerned sigh…. A homeless guy out in this weather. It would break her heart to walk straight past him. But as she got closer, she frowned, recognising the man's frame.

She stood over the sleeping man and shook her head. What was he doing?

"Derek." She said softly, bending down and placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

He began to stir and she could see his lips had began to turn blue and his teeth were chattering.

"Hey." She continued, "Come on. You need to come inside."

His eyes squinted towards her as he began to focus, the cold having taken over his senses, "Emily?" He said, his voice gravely and tired.

"Yes. What _are_ you doing?"

"You didn't answer your cell. I didn't know where you were." He mumbled as he got to his feet.

"I just went for a walk."

"I was worried." He whispered, staring into her, "Rossi said you didn't want a lift home and it's been hours."

"Well I'm ok." She half smiled, "You didn't have to wait out here."

"I did." He told her.

"Ok." She said with a small roll of the eyes and a tiny smirk, "Let's get inside. It's freezing."

He rubbed his hands frantically as he entered her apartment, blowing on them as he turned to face her.

He watched her dead bolt the door and remove her coat, hanging it on a hook to the side.

"You ok?" He asked softly as she turned to face.

She nodded, pressing her lips together as she subdued a thankful smile.

"Are _we_ ok?" He muttered, a nervous swallow rippling his throat.

She took a step forward, this time allowing the smile to form completely, "Of course we are. I know I was hard on you. I was just…."

"Upset about your friend." He interrupted, "I get that and I don't blame you. But I was honestly only looking out for you. I will always have your back."

"Derek I know and I'm sorry I said what I did."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I understand why you said it, I just want you to believe it."

"I do." She whispered.

"Really?" He said with an expectant raised brow.

"Really." She assured.

"Come here then." He uttered, holding his arms out to her.

She smiled into his eyes and then closed the gap between them, her arms snaking round his waist and her head falling onto his chest.

She closed her eyes and breathed in his embrace she had missed over the past few weeks. But she was quickly bought back into the moment as she felt his body shudder against him.

"You're frozen." She said, her words muffled as she spoke into his jacket.

"I'm fine." He dismissed.

"Well, may be a hot shower would be a good idea." She said, pulling away from him.

"Come on." She urged, gripping his ice cold hand and leading him to the bathroom.

He shed his clothes as she turned the heavy spray on and the temperature right. He quickly stepped in to the large shower unit and turned to face her. "Hey, you coming in?"

"Derek." she sighed, "I'm not in the mood. I'm tired."

She watched his brow furrow and his wounded eyes stare at her, "That's not why I was asking. I wouldn't after what you've been though today. Jeez Emily…" He uttered, shaking his head with closed eyes as he rubbed his head that was pounding from the chill. "You're just as cold as me and….."

He opened his eyes and stopped mid sentence as she stripped off her shirt and threw it on the floor behind her.

He smiled invitingly as she shred the last of her clothing and took his hand, stepping in and facing him.

"I'm sorry." She said, cupping his face in her hands, "I know you haven't got a one track mind."

She smiled and reached up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, before wrapping her arms around him.

They let the hot water beat down on their naked skin; It stung at first from the contrast of the hot liquid against their freezing cold bodies, but in no time they were warmed up. He ran his hands up and down her long back, letting them eventually rest on her shoulders and immediately felt the tension in them.

"Turn around." He whispered.

She did as he said without question, and smiled as she felt his toned, hard chest against her back. As his strong hands gripped her shoulders, she closed her eyes feeling his long fingers massage her flesh and the tension of the long, cold day began to disappear…. Just a little.

He massaged the shampoo in to her long dark hair and she felt his hardness against her back as he did, but not once did he make a move; She knew he wouldn't… And she kind of loved him a little more for that.

"You feeling a bit better?" He whispered into her ear, pressing his lips lightly against her lobe.

She nodded and inhaled deeply as his hands fell to her hips.

"Wait here." He uttered before stepping out of the shower.

Her head was light and fuzzy from the steam and the aromas floating in the air from the shampoo and shower gel he had used on her, so before she could ask him where he was going, he had disappeared from the room.

A couple of minutes later she had finished washing all of the suds from her hair when she heard him enter the bathroom again. He became clearer as he got closer, the steam obscuring her view somewhat. She could see he had a towel round his waist and held another in his hand.

"You done?" He asked with a smile, holding the fabric out in front of him, inviting her to step into it.

"Yeah." She whispered, switching off the shower and then manoeuvring out of the cubicle and into his arms, the fluffy material immediately encircling her body.

She turned and faced him, "Thanks. I really needed that." She smiled, standing on tip toe to kiss his lips gently.

"You're welcome." He muttered, brushing a piece of wayward hair from her face, "Come on." He said, standing behind her and guiding her forward until they reached her sitting room.

The room was dark but for yellow and orange lights flickering all around, and on the floor by the open fire were a bunch of red and cream cushions with the green and blue knitted blanket she had owned for as long as she remembered, draped over them.

She smiled… he knew that was her favourite blanket; they had wrapped it around them the night they had sat on her apartment building roof so she could show him Sirius… the brightest star in the sky. And she had told him all about her grandmother who had knitted that blanket and shown _her_ Sirius for the first time.

She felt the warmth of his body leave hers as he went and sat on the cushions, loosing the towel. She didn't need any encouragement to follow him and sit herself in between his legs. She lay gently back against him and let her head fall against his chest as he threw each edge of the blanket over them, wrapping it tight.

"Comfy?" He asked.

"Yeah." She breathed, the heat from him and the fire encompassing her head.

"So, where you been all night?" He asked, as he lightly rubbed the top of her arm.

He tensed up a little as she remained silent, scared she was about to close up on him and he had just undone all the good he had done over the past hour or so.

But she remained perfectly still and he felt her back press harder against his chest as she took a deep breath.

"Church." She uttered, he only just about hearing her.

"Church?"

He felt a shrug, "I didn't know where else to go."

"I didn't know you went to church." He frowned.

"I don't." She said with certainty, but with a labour to her tone, "Church was a big part of mine and Matthew's past when we were kids. But not a really good part. I dunno." She paused in thought for a tiny second, "May be I went there for answers."

"And did you get them?"

Her hair almost tickled his skin as she shook her head against his chest and silence fell over for them for a short while.

"You know," He began, his tone gentle, but deep and a little hoarse, "Bad things happen to good people Emily. I don't know if God is supposed to be able to stop that."

"We see far too much evil to believe that he could I suppose."

"Yeah." He mused.

Tracing a finger along his arm, she asked, "What do you think? About God I mean."

She heard a breathy chuckle, "I think I'm the wrong person to ask."

"Why?"

"My faith took a big knock many years ago."

She gulped, feeling guilty for even having to ask 'why'. She placed her hand over his and gently rubbed a finger over the rough skin, "I'm sorry Derek." She whispered, not knowing for sure if it were his father or Buford she was apologising for. More than likely both.

"It's ok." He uttered, placing a light kiss to her temple.

"But you did go to church when you were younger didn't you?"

"Yep. Every Sunday, as a family…. Well, up until my father died. After that, I couldn't bring myself to go. I was so angry; My mama tried her best to get me to go at first, but eventually she gave up. Never pushed me again. But I saw the disappointment in her face every week as she and my sisters left to go without me." He paused and she could feel his chest depress as he exhaled labouredly, "I'll never forget the look on her face." He said regretfully.

"I can't imagine your mom could ever be disappointed in you Derek." She told him, the sincerity clear in her tone.

"I'm not sure about that. I wasn't an angel when I was a kid you know."

The brunette laughed lightly, "I bet I'd give you a run for your money in the unruly teenager stakes."

"Somehow, I believe that." He chuckled, "One day, we're comparing notes Miss Prentiss." He teased, lightly squeezing her thigh just above the knee.

"Ok, but I may need some alcoholic inducement before that happens."

"Consider it done."

That little moment took them both somewhere else, just for a few seconds, but in tandem, their smiles began to fade. She pulled her arms in and drew her knees up a little as if trying to make herself smaller, and nestled into his body a little more before speaking once again, "So. Where are you with the whole faith thing now?" She asked gently.

"It's not like I ever stopped believing in God…."

"You were just angry with him." She stated.

"Yeah." He whispered, tugging playfully at a lock of her hair, "You sound like you know the feeling."

"Umm" She hummed thoughtfully.

"Look, I don't know what happened with you, John Cooley and Matthew when you were kids, but I do know that Matthew dying is not your fault."

He saw her shake her head, "You don't know that." She whispered.

"I'm willing to have a bet with you."

"A bet?"

"Yes. That if one day, you ever feel comfortable enough to tell me what _did_ happen when you were kids, I'd still say that this _was not_ your fault." He said with some certainty.

"It's not that I don't feel comfortable to tell _you_." She started a little desperately, "I just…"

"Hey." He interrupted, "You don't have to justify anything to me. We all have our secrets. And I kinda enjoy getting to know you bit by bit."

"What? It would be boring if I told you everything up front?" She chuckled.

"Nah." He shook his head, "Life with you will _never_ be boring."

She rolled her body round so her forearms were balanced on his chest and her face just a few inches from his;

"Thank you Derek. For this. It's just what I needed."

"Anytime." He whispered. "I mean that." He said, his eyes widening momentarily and his head nodding forward as if it would convince her more.

"I know that." She smiled contemplatively, "And I thought I wanted to be alone tonight. How wrong I was."

"You really should listen to people once in a while Emily Prentiss." He teased.

"Really?" She said with a raised brow. "You mean I should listen to you."

"Yes." He stressed, then leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"Ok. May be I should." She mumbled into him, before twisting and sliding down his body, coming to rest comfortably with her head back on his chest. "But only once in a while." She breathed.

"Ok." He chuckled, pulling the blanket around them tighter, "Goodnight Emily." He whispered.

"Goodnight." She uttered back, sleep beginning to take over. "Oh and…"

"What?" He asked.

"Thank you." She said, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting under his back.

"Always." He replied….. And she thought she could hear him smile as he said that little word that meant so much. And she wondered if he had any idea just how much.

~~CM~~

"Morning sleepy head." He smiled, feeling her begin to stir upon him.

Their bodies were hot and clammy under the blanket, but the fire had gone out and he knew as soon as they removed the material, the cold air would hit their naked flesh.

"Morning." She uttered, turning her head so her face was buried in his chest.

"You ok?"

"Yeah." She muttered into him, then lifting her head to look at him, "Have you gotta get up?"

"No. But I did think we could go somewhere."

"Where?"

"Get showered and you'll see." He said with a wink.

Half an hour later they were both showered and dressed and Morgan stood by her front door. She grabbed her purse and he picked her black, thick duffle coat from the hook and opened it out in front of him.

As she turned to face him, she stood still and smiled.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing." She uttered, her smile broadening before she walked to him and let him help her in to the jacket.

~~CM~~

"We're here." He said nodding and pointing out of the windscreen of his SUV to the tall, gothic looking building.

"Church?" She said, turning to look at him.

He stared at her for a few seconds and he was sure he saw a flash of fear in her dark eyes.

"We don't have to stay Emily. May be this was a silly idea. I just thought that may be together we could…."

He stopped as she turned away from him and stared out of the window.

She watched as the people slowly drifted in to the morning service; The couple trying to keep their two children under control and well behaved. The lone, grey haired woman greeting the priest with a warm, friendly hand shake. The older couple, holding hands, supporting each other up the icy path.

"No. It's ok. Let's go." She said, glancing back at him with a smile before reaching for the door handle.

She rubbed her gloved hands together as she waited for him to lock the car up and jog around the back of the vehicle to join her on the sidewalk.

"C'mon then." He nodded towards the building and held a hand out to her.

She gripped his hand in hers and held on tight as they made along the iced path and then up the frosted steps. As they approached the tall, heavy dark wooden doors, he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to see she had stopped.

"What's up?" He asked.

He watched as she shook her head just slightly, but quickly, "I don't know if I can."

He smiled and looked around, "Tell you what. How about we just sit there." He said, pointing to a small cast iron bench, just barely big enough for two people. "We can just listen."

"Ok." She agreed, following him to the bench.

She huddled next to him and slipped her arm into his, her feet tapping on the floor to keep warm.

"We can go back to the car if you're too cold." He offered.

"No." She said with a shake of the head, the air in between them cloudy as their warm breath hit it, "I wanna stay."

"Ok." He whispered.

"I bet you think I'm pretty lame for not going in there….. Agent Emily Prentiss scared of the inside of a building?" She half chuckled, her teeth chattering from the cold.

He looked at her with a warm smile and snaked his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer, "Baby steps Emily. Baby steps." He muttered.

She lay her head on his shoulder and they sat in silence for a while, listening to the muffled voice of the priest giving the sermon.

"What you thinking?" He asked, sensing her mind had wandered away.

"Nothing really, just being silly."

"Tell me." He urged.

"Where do you think Matthew is now? I mean, his soul. Do you think it just dies?"

"Wow. That's deep." He lightly chuckled.

"Sorry. I told you it was silly."

"No. It's not. But honestly? I really don't know. But I'd like to think my father's out there somewhere, knowing what I've done with my life."

"Yeah. I'd like to think that too." She pondered.

"Listen." He began, "Like I said before, I don't know what happened with you and Matthew all those years ago, but I know he meant a lot to you and I know that he would be very proud of what you did for him yesterday."

"Too little too late." She said, a defeat in her tone.

"No Emily." He urged, parting their bodies to look at her, "We all have demons. We all have bad things happen to us and we all have choices. You couldn't be responsible for him for the whole of his life."

She bit her bottom lip and averted his gaze, looking downward and he responded by placing one finger under her chin and lifting so she was looking at him once again. "Life sometimes deals us a shitty hand Emily. I don't know if it's evil, if it's God, if it's human nature or the natural order of things. Those questions will probably never be answered. But one thing I do know, is that it's not you. You're a good person." He told her in a deep, serious tone.

She glanced up at him, a small thankful smile forming on her lips, "May be we can come back another day and actually go in next time."

His eyes lit up as his face smiled, "Sure." He said, standing up and offering his hand once again, "Come on."

"Where we going now?"

"I'm taking you for pancakes. I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten anything in over twenty four hours."

She raised a brow.

"Well tell me I'm wrong." He said with a small shake of the head.

She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a shy smile, before taking a step forward and encouraging him to walk on.

As they walked down the steps and along the path, she looked at Derek Morgan. No one had known her like he did since Matthew. No one had shown this want to look after her and protect her like he did since Matthew… She wondered what demons Derek had…. What secrets. She wondered how he would feel about her if he knew all of hers.

But she was content too, to get to know him bit by bit…. Content to have this man in her life…. who did want to wait for her at home when she was out. Who did worry about where she was. Who was a gentleman, always treating her as lady.

She couldn't bare to lose him as she had Matthew…..

**So what do you think? I would like to do some stories in the Fallback series based on certain episodes. So if you have any requests, let me know.**

**I'm in the mood at the moment to write oneshots, so if you have any other requests or prompts (Fallback based or not) just let me know…..**

**Oh and I will continue Our Fight too ;)**


	2. Minimal Loss 4x03

**This one is a little bit naughty so I've changed the rating to M… You've been warned! ;) It features someone mentioned briefly in the original 'Fallback' story.**

_**Minimal Loss: 4x03**_

_As she ran from the building she jumped out of her skin as the deafening explosion reverberated through the air. Everything hurt….. But everything felt numb. All she could hear were muffled noises. She wasn't sure if it was screams. If it was sirens. If it was someone talking to her. _

_She tried to breathe but thick dust and air caught in her throat. As she ran and the air began to clear, she turned back. They had to be right behind her. They had to be….. But there weren't. They were nowhere to be seen._

_She got to the bottom of the steps and turned, "Reid…. Morgan!" She called out as she did, but all she saw was flames and people running, and more flames._

"_Reid…. Morgan." She said again, but the words barely could be heard as hope began to disappear. _

_Morgan was too far behind her. He couldn't have made it out. And Reid…. She had no idea where he was or what Cyrus could have done with him._

_She felt her chest constrict and she couldn't breathe as she stared at the burning building intently. Her gaze fell on a tall, thin figure running towards her and for a split second she hope came back, but it faded in an instant as the man's face appeared…. It wasn't Reid._

_But suddenly her heart stuttered and her chest gave way as two familiar silhouettes came staggering out of the plumes of smoke, coughing and spluttering. She closed her eyes and exhaled heavily as if her chest had collapsed, placing her hands over her mouth in relief. Within a few seconds she was with them; her arms tight around the hunched over frame of Reid and her eyes staring at Morgan. Were they actually there…..?_

~~CM~~

Morgan stood, leant over the basin, in front of a mirror in the men's bathroom back at Qauntico and rubbed his eyes; They were stinging still from a mixture of the smoke and tiredness. He couldn't even think about writing up the report for the shooting of Benjamin Cyrus tonight. His brain just was not functioning right. So he splashed cold water over his face, picked up his bag off the floor and flung it over his shoulder, heading for the door….. The report could wait until tomorrow.

As he approached the bull pen, with the one last thing on his mind that he had to do today, he frowned seeing that the lighting was dimmed and it was deathly quiet. Everyone had made a sharp exit…. And this wasn't supposed to have happened. He scolded himself…. he should have talked to her as soon as they got off the jet.

He pulled his cell out of his pocket and was about to turn and walk away when he spied the low light over her desk. He quietly made his through the doors towards her, where she was hunched over her desk, busily writing away.

"Hey." He muttered as he approached.

"Hey." She replied, glancing up at him quickly before returning to her report.

"How you feeling?" He asked, pulling his own seat across the small gap between their desks so he was sat next to her.

She looked back to him with her darkening, bruised face and smiled tiredly, "I'm fine. Although I don't think I'll be entering any beauty contests any time soon."

He let out a breathy chuckle, "That looks sore." He whispered, gently touching the side of her face and tracing his fingers along her skin.

"It's ok. It'll heal." She uttered with a small shrug, in an attempt to minimise the issue.

He paused for a moment, inhaling slowly in contemplation and then shook his head, "I'm sorry you went through that."

"Derek." She said, placing her hand atop his that was pressed against her jawline, "Don't do this. I told Reid and I'll tell you, I'd do it all again."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head just a little with a smirk, "Yeah, I know you would."

He let his hand fall away from her, but did not remove his gaze, "You look tired." He told her, a concern in his tone.

"I know…. I am." She conceded, "But I'd rather get this done now." She said pointing to the paper on her desk.

He leant over silently, and with his thumb and forefinger, grasped the pen out of her hand.

"Hey." She protested.

"Hey nothing." He said firmly, placing the pen in his top pocket and standing up. "You're going home. Come on."

"Who made you the boss all of a sudden?" She answered dryly.

"Me." He said as he grabbed her bag off the desk and began to walk away. She grimaced when the pain hit her as she began to smile.

"I guess you're taking me home then." She called to him as he nearly reached the double glass doors.

"Yes. You guess right." He said without looking back, "And don't even think about arguing with me."

She opened her mouth as a natural reaction to do just that, but she just exhaled in surrender instead and pursed her lips as she watched him. She really didn't want to argue with him. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more right now than to go home and just fall into her bed and sleep…

So she labouredly stood up, bones and joints aching, grabbed her jacket off the back of her seat and walked to join him. He smiled as she approached and he reached for the door, pushing it open and signalling for her to exit before him.

"You know what though." He said as he followed her towards the elevator, "There's some Halloween contests you may stand a chance in." He said, attempting to subdue his smirk.

She turned back to him with a raised brow, "Oh ha ha." She snarked.

Their dulcet laughter could still be heard as the elevator pinged, arriving at their floor.

"Good timing." Morgan nodded, as the doors slid open. But he stopped dead in his tracks….

"Emily?" The man the other side of the doors exclaimed, almost jogging out of the elevator towards her.

Morgan's smile faded seeing Gregory Boyd, a team leader for one of the FBI's Counter Terrorism Hostage Rescue Teams….. and boyfriend to Emily for the past couple of months. The slightly taller, dark blond haired Agent wrapped his arms around her without giving her chance to speak and tell her that he really shouldn't. But it soon became quite apparent when she winced from the pain.

"I'm so sorry." He said, pulling his arms from around her, then placing his hands gently on either side of her face as his eyes fully took in the state of her face. "Oh my god. What the hell did he do to you?"

She wrapped her fingers around each of his wrists and guided his arms downwards, an awkwardness flowing over her both from feeling Morgan's stare on them and being in the work place. It really was a no no.

"Greg I'm fine. It's just some bruises. But how did you know?"

"Garcia left a message on my cell but I only got it half an hour ago as I was on a job. I've been trying to call you since."

"Oh sorry." She offered, "My battery died."

"You should have called me. Let me know."

She shook her head, "I didn't want to worry you. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? Look I called Garcia. She told me what happened." Boyd said, glancing at Morgan with a glimmer of contempt.

The dark profiler frowned, a little confused, then returned to that feeling of awkwardness and frustration at watching the couple.

"Well then you know that I'm fine." Emily almost whispered towards the tall dark blond Agent, her eyes widening in a bid to tell him to leave it….

But it was to no avail.

Boyd shook his head and turned back to Morgan, "I can't believe you stood and listened to her being beat up man."

"What?" Morgan scoffed, he face scrunching up in disbelief.

Emily frowned at Boyd, "Greg, it wasn't like…."

"You of all people know, you don't just go storming in to a hostage situation Boyd." Morgan offered, trying to keep his cool, but speaking over the brunette, his everything entirely focused on the man in front of him.

"Look at the state of her." Boyd argued pointing towards Emily's face.

"It's nothing." Emily stressed, once again being cut off.

Morgan snarled silently and pointed at the other Agent, "Don't you dare accuse me of not doing everything I can to protect my team."

"May be you need to do more."

"Greg!" Emily almost shouted, this time grabbing his attention, "I was doing my job. I told them not to come in after me."

A wry smile formed at the one corned of Boyd's mouth, "I didn't think you were one for obeying orders Morgan."

"I trust my partner." The dark profiler responded without hesitation in a low, but sure tone.

Boyd shook his head with a roll of the eyes, before turning his attention back to the brunette.

"Greg." She began, "Morgan is the one who got me out ok?"

The Agent glanced sidewards towards Morgan with one eyebrow raised, "You're the one that shot Cyrus?"

Derek nodded.

"Well, at least you got something right."

Morgan opened his mouth to respond, but his partner was quicker, "That's enough. Let's go." She spat, her lips pursed and her glare boring into Boyd's eyes.

He turned, not acknowledging Morgan again and stepped towards the elevator. She paused and looked at Derek with sad, tired eyes, "I'm sorry." She whispered.

He just shook his head, waving her away, "It doesn't matter." He attempted a half smile, "I'll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Yeah I will. You too." She smiled both sorrily and sweetly, then joined Boyd just as the elevator was about to shut.

Morgan just stood staring at the door. How did you go from feeling just fine to floored in a matter of seconds. He just wanted to make sure she was ok. Get her home safe…. and in one foul swoop, Gregory Boyd took it away. But as a wave of sickness flowed though him at the thought of her with him that night, he realised he was still holding her bag.

He let out a laboured sigh, and made for the stairs, jogging down two steps at a time to the parking lot level in an attempt to catch up with the couple. Slightly out of breath, he pushed the doors open and caught sight of them heading across the lot.

He was about to call out her name when he watched Boyd take hold of Emily's slender hand and raise it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her skin….. And at that point he thought she could wait until tomorrow to get her bag back. He figured she wouldn't be needing it tonight.

~~CM~~

She lifted her heavy eyelids and squinted at the digital clock at the side of the bed. The green neon lights read 2:13 am. She turned to look at the man laying next to her, his chiselled features soft from his deep slumber, his hand laying heavily on her hip. She stared at him for a while, wondering if she should wake him. If he could help her. If he would understand. If he could make it better.

She wasn't sure, so instead, she grabbed for her cell and looked at the screen in hope, but it only disappointed. The blank screen frustrated her and she had no right to feel that way, but she knew there was only one way to get rid of this feeling.

It may be the middle of the night, but she knew he'd be awake; Sleep was a rare thing after cases like today's and Morgan, more than most, would be replaying it over and over in his mind trying to figure out if he could have done it better. If he could have stopped what happened to her. If he could have gotten her out quicker.

So she gently lifted his big hand off her hip and placed it on the mattress, then carefully prising the sheet off her body. She crept through the dark, cold apartment until she reached the sitting room where she pulled her old green and blue blanket out of the closet and wrapped it around herself as she nestled in to the sofa.

Lifting her knees to her chest, she let her hand rest against them as she stared at her cell that was illuminating her features.

'Are you awake?' She texted to her partner, laying her head back whilst awaiting his response.

Not even sixty seconds later, with a tiny beep and a flash of the screen, it came;

'Yes. Are you ok?"

'Fine. Is it ok to call you?'

She waited again for the dull beep of the text message to arrive, but instead the cell rang out and she quickly answered it…. The ringing sound seemingly much louder in the middle of the night.

"Hey." She answered.

"_Hey. You don't have to ask me if you can call you know."_

She smiled, "Yeah I do…. Particularly in the middle of the night."

There was a short silence as both Agents contemplated what she meant by her last statement. Both of them had made that call before, with the other talking quietly and awkwardly at the other end, the presence of another immediately apparent.

"_So, what's up?"_ He asked, breaking the silence.

"Can't sleep."

"_Me neither_. _You want me to come over?"_

He listened intently as he could hear no sound from her, but he felt the heavy intensity.

"_He's there isn't he?"_

"Yeah." Her voice croaked as she forced the word out apologetically. "But he's asleep."

"_Why don't you wake him?"_

"Because I wanted to talk to _you_."

She heard a heavy sigh at the end of the line but nothing else. She couldn't blame him for feeling a little put upon. She had another man in her bed, but she was ringing _him_. She couldn't imagine she'd have been much different should the roles have been reversed.

"Derek?" She said softly.

"_Yeah I'm here."_ He uttered.

"I'm sorry for what Greg said to you earlier. He was out of line."

"_To be honest Emily, I'd of probably been the same if I saw what had happened to you."_

"Really?"

"_Yes really."_ Morgan chuckled at her apparent surprise, _"But I still think the guy is an ass."_

"Derek…" She half scolded, half laughed.

"_So."_ He continued, his tone changing, _"What do you want to talk about?" _He asked gently.

There was a silence….. and he was happy to let it remain and just listen to her small breaths at the other end. He heard a ruffling sound and assumed she was shifting her body and he smiled imagining her picking at her nails or biting her bottom lip, but then he heard an intake of breath and a tiny voice….

"I thought you died." She eventually whispered with a quiver.

"_What?"_ He asked, thinking he may have misheard.

"I thought you died. You and Reid. I thought you were dead when that place exploded."

He half smiled, "_Well we are both very much alive and kicking and remember what you did saved a whole lotta lives…. and who knows what would have happened to Reid if Cyrus got his hands on him."_

"I didn't want him to go through that… Not after Hankel."

"_I know.' _He conceded, "_I get that. I just wish it hadn't been you who had to go through that."_

"Well who else would you choose?"

"_Me."_

"Of course." She smiled, "My hero."

"_Are you being sarcastic Agent Prentiss?"_

He heard a slight chuckle.

"No I'm not Agent Morgan. I just don't want a dead hero on my hands."

"_Well, I'm still here."_

There was a small pause before she uttered in a low, more serious tone, "I wish you were _here_."

"_Jeez Emily."_ He sighed.

"What?"

"_Don't do this to me."_

"Do what?"

"_Do you have any idea how much I wish I was there with you right now?"_

"Of course I do."

He sighed once again before responding_, "So come here then." _

"I can't just leave."

"_Tell him we've got a case."_

"I can't. He'll know tomorrow."

"_Ok, whatever."_ He said with resignation.

"Derek I'm sorry. I didn't mean to….. I mean, I just wanted to…"

"_Emily."_ He interrupted, _"It's ok. I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you all night."_

"You have?"

"_Of course. What else? Look, all I wanted to do tonight Emily was put my arms around you to know you're ok."_

"I am ok."

"_No you're not. You wouldn't be calling me at nearly two thirty a.m. if you were."_

"Derek… I…"

"_Just come round."_ He stated.

Silence…

~~CM~~

She tiptoed through the dark corridor and pushed the door open, a shaft of blue moonlight from the hallway window illuminating the bed and she could see the rise and fall of the sheet as he slept. She walked the few steps to the side of the bed that he slept and gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Hey." She whispered.

He rolled over immediately, and greeted her with tired, but smiling eyes.

"Hey." He replied, his voice gruff.

"Sorry for waking you."

"You didn't. I wasn't asleep."

"Really?"

"No." He said, sitting himself up against his pillows, "I couldn't."

"Sorry, I…."

"Shhhh." He hushed, placing a finer to her lips and reaching with the other to turn on the bed side lamp.

As the light attacked their eyes they both squinted and took a few seconds to focus on one another.

But without saying a word he reached up to her and placed both his hands gently either side of her neck and stared into her dark eyes.

"I hate this." He whispered, running the back of one finger down the side of her face gently. "Come here."

He held his arms open and she shuffled along the bed towards him and let his big arms encircle her body.

"I'm so glad you came." He uttered beside her ear, his words muffled by her hair.

"Me too." She replied, but he heard a strain in her tone.

He pulled away, "Did I hurt you?"

"It's just a bit sore." She grimaced.

"You should have said. I wouldn't have…"

"Derek. It's fine." She attempted to reassure.

"How bad is it?"

She shook her head with a shrug.

He glanced down and eyed the oversized white shirt she wore and smiled.

"What?" She asked.

"In a hurry?" He said with a raised brow.

She looked down and saw the hem of the shirt was not in line as she had managed to button it up all kinds of wrong.

"I was getting dressed in a rush, and in the dark." She told him.

"Ok." He muttered, then fell mute and stared at her. "Can I see?"

There was a thickness in the air as she stared back, but he just about saw the tiny nod.

He lifted his arms in front and reached for the top button, grasping it, then pausing to stare at her again, waiting for her to protest…..But it didn't come.

He undid the buttons slowly, one by one until the fabric fell apart. Her eyes were almost smoky as as they were fixed on him and she gave a small smile as he slid his hands underneath the material and over her shoulders, pushing the shirt down her arms until it slipped off and fell on the floor at her feet. It left her upper body completely exposed as she hadn't bothered with a bra before she had hurriedly left her apartment… but he didn't even seem to notice that. All focus was on the patchy skin that covered her stomach, and her chest covered in red scratches and bruises getting darker and spreading where Cyrus' boots had pounded into her.

"I'm so glad he gave me a reason to shoot him." He uttered catching her eye. "He's lucky I didn't get my hands on him."

She smiled, "Derek Morgan, you are _not_ the revenge type of guy."

He leant forward and kissed her lips gently, "You have no idea what I was thinking when I listened to you being beaten up…. And then seeing your face when I got you out. I don't know what I would have done."

"Yeah I do." She whispered, this time kissing his lips this time, "You'd of done the right thing."

"You mean like this?" He mumbled into her as he let his tongue trace along her bottom lip.

"Just like this." She uttered, deepening their kiss.

He jolted a little, unexpectedly feeling her fingers on his waist. They traced around his back and moved lower, grasping the sheet that was at the base of his spine and beginning to push it away.

"Hey." He murmured softly, pulling a couple of inches away from her and reaching around his back to grasp her wrists lightly, "That's not why I asked you to come here."

He watched her swallow and the glint in her eyes begin to fade, "I know." She whispered, "But I want…"

She stopped and looked downward.

"Why _did_ you come here?" He asked, stroking her dark hair that fell to the side of her head.

She moved her stare back on to him, "I just want to see you're ok….."

"I am." He uttered.

She shook her head, "To _feel_ you're ok."

He smiled and his eyes softened, "I understand….. But I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She stated with some certainty, pulling him back towards her.

She felt his smile as their lips met and his hands gently cupped her face. He placed feather light kisses upon her bruised cheeks, then her jaw line, moving his way down her neck. Lowering her backwards onto the bed, he hovered above her and smiled before averting his attention; His lips danced from her collar bone, down onto her chest and lightly over her breasts. He took his time and care as he came to the battered and broken skin that covered her ribs and stomach, at the same time, tugging gently at the elasticated top of her joggers. He pressed his full lips against, and let them linger upon the taut skin just above her panty line, then looked up as he felt her stare on him and saw the wanton look in her eyes and her chest heave in anticipation.

Making quick work of removing what was left of her clothing, he moved back up the bed and lay down beside her, balancing on his elbow so he could see her face.

"You alright?" He uttered, his voice raspy and tired.

She pressed her lips together in a gentle smile and nodded, then reaching for his hand that was rested on her tummy and entwined their fingers. She bought the back of his hand to her lips and pressed against his rough skin before laying his hand upon her neck and freeing it from her own.

He leant down and kissed her once on the lips and then placed his fingers loosely around her neck and rubbed down until he reached the base. He began lightly stroking her skin from the top of her chest and working his way downward. He watched her close her eyes and a small smile play upon her lips as goose bumps began to appear upon her skin at his touch.

But as his fingers traced lower, to the crease at the top of her thighs, he saw the smile fade from her and a more serious expression form. Her mouth opened slightly and she silently gasped as his fingers nestled in and began to stroke her.

He kept the pace gentle and slow, watching her intently as he did. She looked as though she was in another place, almost as if she were dreaming….. That was until he saw something change. Her eyes remained shut, but the tiniest of frowns appeared on her brow and her chest rose a little higher.

And then he suddenly froze….. A solitary tear running down her cheek.

He elevated himself a little higher so his face was above hers and gently swept the tear away with the back of one finger.

"Hey. Open your eyes." He whispered.

As her eyelids rose he saw more moisture glazed across her dark orbs.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I can't stop thinking about how close you came to…."

"Well I didn't." He interrupted.

But she remained silent and he saw her throat ripple as she swallowed and looked away from him.

"I'm right here." He whispered, running his fingers from her forehead, through her dark hair.

Her eyes darted back to his and they widened as she reached her arms up and around his neck pulling him back to her.

"Show me." She uttered, before kissing him.

But this time it was different; It was hard and wanton, fast and feverish and he felt her grab for his chest pulling him on top of her. He had to straddle her and balance on all fours so that he didn't crush her already battered body.

As he hovered above her, he felt her arms wrap around his waist and dig her nails in to his flesh and it drove him crazy. He knew she could wait no longer, and now he couldn't either, so he flipped over sitting himself upright on the bed next to her. She looked over to him quizzically, but he smiled, leaning over and reaching for her wrists, gently guiding her over so she sat astride him and he wrapped his arms around her letting his forearms rest under her ass, taking the weight.

She bore her eyes into his and placed her lips barely an inch from his, teasing him with her breath. She held the side of his face as she rose slightly, adjusting her angle. Her eyes closed and he felt her warm, slight breath, brush his lips as she lowered herself onto him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her naked flesh against his chest and he supported her weight with his arms.

As she rocked, the friction between them caused small instances of painful pleasure for her, but he swallowed her groans with his deep kisses. She rocked harder and faster, wanting to feel every last part of him and threw her head back inviting his lips to her chest. As he lavished her skin with rough, desperate kisses, he grasped her hair and tugged lightly. She gasped and closed her eyes tight…. He had no idea Cyrus had done just that to her, that her head was sore, but she didn't make Derek stop…. She wanted this. She wanted to make Cyrus go away and the only memory of this action to be Morgan.

"Harder." She breathed, and she felt his warm breath on her chest as he chuckled lightly.

She felt a slight increase in pressure on her scalp, but not really what you would call 'harder'. Derek Morgan was up for most things, but hurting her wasn't one of them, so instead, he released the grip on her hair and moved his hand between them both.

Her lips crashed into his as he teased her sensitive spot and her breath got caught in his as their pace quickened and their senses heightened. With the pressure building, she exhaled heavily and as their mouths fell apart, she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He tensed his arm that was underneath her and using every ounce of strength he had left in his body, he rode out their climax until they both had nothing left to give.

She remained with her arms tightly fixed around him, their sweaty bodies stuck together as their breathing began to calm. He turned his head slightly so his face was buried in her soft, dark hair, "You feel that?" He whispered, "I'm right here."

He just felt a small nod in response, and a pair of moist warm lips press against the sensitive skin at the side of his neck.

A short while later, they had finally prised themselves apart and she lay on her side atop the sheets, with his chest pressed up against her back, their bodies melting into one once again.

"So, where'd you tell him you were going?" He muttered, his voice deep and raspy and he let one arm fall over her waist.

"I didn't." She answered sleepily.

"You mean you just walked out?"

She nodded.

"What's he gonna think?"

"That I got called in to work." She said as a matter of fact.

"And when he finds out you weren't?"

He heard a small sigh as she shifted in his arms and twisted round so she was facing him.

"I don't want to talk about him." She uttered, nestling her head into his chest.

"Ok." He smiled, kissing her temple lightly, "Me neither."

And he continued to smile as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, contentment surrounding him for one night at least, knowing she was safe….. in _his_ arms.

**I hope that didn't disappoint… a lot of people asked for a tag to Minimal Loss. **

**I thought may be a more light hearted chapter next…. So if anyone would like a fun tag to an episode, let me know which one Thanks for reading!**


	3. It Takes A Viallge 7x01

**7x01 It Takes A Village**

He lay wide eyed staring at the ceiling. He was scared to go to sleep for fear he'd wake up and realise it was all a dream; This doesn't happen. People don't come back from the dead. You don't get second chances like this.

But the memory of her face as she watched Ian Doyle die in front of her….. Her face breaking as she had to let Declan go to the care of Child Services….. The scared and lost look she gave everyone as she left the BAU, JJ insisting that tonight she stopped with her…. And the sorry glance she gave him over her shoulder as she walked away, made it all very real.

Seven months.

Seven months he had lay just like this in his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because of the nightmares. Because of the anger and pure hatred towards Ian Doyle. Because of the vision of her dying in his arms. Because he knew would never hold her as he once did. He would never feel her like he once did. He would never love her as he once did…

He closed his eyes. He just wanted these thoughts to go away. He wanted some peace….. but only seconds later his head suddenly snapped round to look toward the window, hearing a noise outside. It was a crunching sound. Footsteps slowly walking across the fallen autumn leaves. As he jumped out of his bed, wearing only his boxers, the time on the alarm clock registered…. 2:13am. He grabbed his glock from the bedside table, quickly hopping into a pair of dark grey joggers and peeking out of the window down onto his front lawn, just in time to see the dark shadow move from in front of his living room window and round towards the porch. He slowly climbed down the stairs, glock raised out in front, but as he got to the hallway and saw the silhouette outside his front door through the stained glass, he exhaled a breath of relief and lowered the weapon.

"Shit!" She gasped as he opened the door, her body jumping, "You scared me."

"I scared _you_?" He said in disbelief, "Emily it's after two in the morning. What are you doing sneaking around?"

She stared at him with no words and he could see her chest heaving. He reached out and took hold of her arm, "Come on in." He said guiding her through the front door, "It's freezing out there."

As he let go of her and locked the door back up, he looked over his shoulder and saw she had her arms wrapped around herself, but she hadn't turned to face him.

"Emily." He uttered, his tone deep and raspy from the exhaustion of the day…. From the exhaustion of the past seven months.

She didn't move.

"Why were you looking through my living room window?" He asked, stood a couple of paces behind her, scared to move any closer.

The Emily who had reappeared today was outwardly strong, fighting just as the old Emily he knew, for Declan. But he knew there was something different. He could sense it. She was fragile. She was pained. She was weary.

The atmosphere felt thick; just as it had been when she had entered the briefing room this morning when he saw her for the first time since the day they lifted her lifeless, battered body from the ambulance, and into the hospital. The image of her limp arm falling off the gurney as they wheeled her in had never left him.

He saw her drop her arms to her side, but stay facing away from him, "I…. I just wanted to see if you were awake." She voiced, but struggled with her words. "The house was all dark and…."

"I was awake." He interrupted in a whisper.

She remained still apart from her hands that were now bunching in and out of fists to relieve them of the cold, her shoulders hunched up as she tried to fold into her own body for warmth and may be a little safety.

"Emily." He repeated, taking a step towards her, "Why d'you come here tonight?"

He was slightly startled as she suddenly turned unexpectedly, her big eyes looking up at him and locking into his. Those large, dark orbs staring at him. He squinted as he got a flash of the last time he looked in to those eyes…. That night, glaring up at him from the cold warehouse floor, just before they closed and the life had drifted out of her slowly.

But he was bought slamming back to his senses as he felt her lips crash into his and her small hands rest on his exposed hips. Before he could respond, her kisses moved to his jaw line, then on to his neck and as she began to slow down, he closed his eyes, intoxicated by the softness of her lips upon his skin. Those lips he had missed. That touch he had missed.

But he soon came back to reality and his eyes shot open as he thought about where he had believed she had been for the past seven months…. In a box buried six feet under….. and he felt his throat constrict, unable to breathe.

He placed his hands around her wrists and held them tight, halting her, "Emily what are you doing?"

She looked up at him with a fire in her eyes, "I know we have to talk." She began softly, "I know I have to make things up to you. But right now, I just….." She paused, breathing heavily, "I just need you." She whispered, a pleading to her tone.

She didn't wait for a reply, just placed a tender kiss to the middle of his bare chest. She nipped and suckled at his skin lightly as she moved up, along his collarbone and up to his neck once again.

"But Emily." She heard him breathe.

Ignoring his veiled protest, she let her lips rest at the corner of his mouth and pressed gently. "It's ok." She whispered.

His hands were still gripping her wrists tight, holding both of their arms down, sandwiched between their bodies. Normally she would have pulled away. Normally she would have told him he was hurting her…. But today wasn't 'normally'. Today the pain felt good. The pain made her feel alive.

He nodded slightly then squeezed his eyes shut trying in vain to rid his mind of the recent memories. He wanted to feel her. He wanted everything to go back to how it was before, because she made him feel good. She made him feel content and at ease and the luckiest man in the world when he was with her….. But that was not how he felt right now.

And she felt him freeze. His entire body was rigid. Her lips paused on the taught flesh of his chest, her warmth breath causing the skin to go clammy and she glanced upwards. Tears began to well in her eyes upon seeing the expression on his face. That's not who she remembered. He always had a smile on his face for her when they did this. He always responded to her touch with groans of pleasure, tracing her skin with his hands and running his fingers though her hair. He always responded to her kisses giving her tenfold back, not leaving a patch of her body untouched by his lips. But tonight there was no response. He stood rigid, with pain, may be disgust painted on his face and she was sure he hadn't taken a breath since she had laid her hands upon him.

She stood up and pulled away, taking a couple of steps back. It took a few seconds for him to open his eyes and see the distance she had put between them.

He didn't speak.

She swallowed and took a breath before she spoke, "I'm sorry." She uttered, pressing her lips together to subdue the tears she wanted to cry, "I shouldn't of come. I just wanted….." She paused, rethinking her words, "I'll leave you alone."

Her shoulders slumped as if defeated and she turned to leave. A few beats passed before he snapped out of his trance as he watched her, and he took three large strides across his hallway to catch up to her, grabbing her forearm, "Don't go." He said, staring at her intently as she spun round to meet his gaze.

She frowned, her face still a little broken from his rejection, "But….."

She didn't finish her sentence. She was confused.

"I don't want you to leave. Stay." He whispered, a little pleading to _his_ tone now, "May be we should just wait though, before we….. you know." He suggested gently.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. All she wanted was his arms around her. Those arms that hugged her tight and made her feel safe. Made her feel wanted. Made her feel loved. If there was one feeling she had craved all the time she had been away, it was how he made her feel. But she guessed being under the same roof would have to be the next best thing right now, so she nodded, albeit unconvincingly.

"You can have my room." He offered.

She shook her head, "No I can't…."

"I insist. I can sleep in the spare room." He said, "You know you always said my bed was the comfiest you ever slept in." He added with the smallest of smiles in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It may have worked for a moment as her lips curled up at the edges and she glanced away shyly. At least that's what he thought, but in truth, she felt embarrassed for throwing herself at him. She felt stupid for thinking that after everything that had happened, that she had put him through, that she could just pick up where they left off before Ian Doyle came back into her life.

"Why don't you go upstairs. I'll bring you a glass of water up." He suggested, needing just a few seconds to breathe.

"Ok." She nodded, giving him a gentle thankful smile before turning and slowly making her way up.

He watched her tiny frame pace heavily up his stair case. She looked thinner. Less sure of herself….. broken.

And he thought about how he had missed her; Not just the sex. Not just the fun. But the intimacy. The thoughtfulness. The conversation. The dozing, lay in bed in the mornings, chatting absently. Her bringing him coffee. Him brining her bagels. It was the little things…..

His best friend. He missed his best friend, and by some miracle he had been given a second chance.

As if some light bulb had gone off in his mind, he shook his head in frustration at himself and quietly, but swiftly, he jumped up the stairs, two at a time. When he reached the top, she was just getting to his bedroom door and had one hand on the door knob.

She paused upon hearing his footsteps. She knew he had not had time to get the water.

She remained silent though, staring at the wooden door as she sensed his presence all of a sudden right behind her.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard feeling his bare chest just lightly touch her back, and she took a sharp intake of breath as she felt his hands snake around her waist and rest on her tummy. He buried his face in her soft dark hair and let his chin rest upon her shoulder, his cheek nestled against her neck.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into her, letting out a laboured breath as the last syllable left his lips, and she was sure she heard a sob in his words. She shook her head, letting him know there was nothing to be sorry for, and placed one hand over his, squeezing gently.

He held her tight and closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to believe she was really there. It really was her he was holding….. and he could have stayed like that all night just breathing her in.

But using her free hand, she pushed the door open and without breaking from their hold, they slowly paced into the darkened room. A wave of relief flowed through her upon feeling the familiarity of his room…. the smells. The big, dark wooden bed. The soft, thick carpet…. The soft moonlight peeking through the broken blind he had still not fixed….. It was a familiarity she had not felt for months being stuck in hospitals and lonely hotel rooms. And then a gentle smile danced on her lips as she felt his warm lips press against her neck. His kisses were slow, moist and gentle, and between each one, his hot breath would give her skin a beautiful burning sensation.

"I…." He breathed. But before he could continue, her heard a gentle hush escape her lips and her hand reach back and caress the back of his neck. Now was not the time for words.

He let his hands trace over her hips and down to the tops of her thighs before working their way back up to the base of her shirt. His fingers gripped at the fabric and he paused….. and it took no more than a beat to pass for her to react, lifting her arms to assist him in removing the garment.

As the shirt fell to the floor, he placed his lips back on the ivory skin of her collar bone, but as his palms reconnected with the naked skin of her tummy, she tensed up, suddenly remembering her scars, and she cringed in disappointment as she felt his torso leave her back.

But he did not let her go. He let his hands rest on her hips and turned her around, their gaze meeting immediately.

"You ok?" He whispered.

She half smiled and nodded.

But staring at her face he could see she was still scared. She was still trying to cover it up. She was still trying to keep something from him….. She was still lying.

He couldn't look at her. He didn't want anything to mess this up. So he buried his face in her neck one again and kissed her softly, but instead of helping him to forget, it bought back more memories….. He suddenly couldn't get the image of her smiling at him and telling him she was 'good', before she walked out of the bull pen and out of their lives…. Out of his life.

There was a time. A short time. Just a matter of minutes that day that he thought he would never be able to forgive her for that. He never wanted to feel that way again;

"You walked away from me Emily." He mumbled, not breaking his lips from her skin.

"What?" She breathed, not sure of what she just heard.

"You walked away after telling me you were ok." He uttered between kisses.

She placed both hands on his chest and gently pushed, creating a small distance between them, but she didn't say anything, searching silently for an explanation.

"Please don't lie to me anymore Emily." He continued, brushing a piece of hair away from her cheek, "If you're not ok, just say you're not ok."

She frowned, "But you told me you understood why I did that…." She averted her gaze from him, "That I did it for Declan."

"You remember?" He asked placing a finger under her chin and drawing her face up so she looked at him, "You remember what I said to you that day?"

"Yes." She nodded, "Every word."

"Then I want you know I meant it. _Every_ word." He stressed, "I do understand why you did it." He paused, "I just don't want you to do it again. You understand?" He said softly, staring hard into her eyes to make sure she heard him. To make sure she understood that there could be no more lies.

She nodded, realising at that moment they had a long way to go before they were mended. She was sure he would have not forgotten a single thing she had said or done during that period that hurt him. Many things she was sure she would not remember herself unless he reminded her. But she wanted to fix it…. every single last thing.

She looked down and threaded one finger into the waist band of his joggers, "I told you." She uttered, tugging gently and taking a step back, "I know I have to make it up to you…."

He shook his head, not wanting her feel that way, but she ignored his protest, "I know it will take a while, but I am going to make it up to you."

She sat down as she felt the bed against the backs of her thighs and pulled him fully towards her so he was stood in between her knees. He gently smiled before cupping her face in his hands and bending down, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss.

The kiss became deeper and more wanton and she shifted her body back onto the soft mattress, laying down and taking him with her so he was hovering above.

He looked down at her and splayed his fingers across the pale, porcelain skin of her forehead, brushing her dark hair back. He traced the contours of her face, remembering the bruises that were there before. Remembering the blood and the cuts…. But it had all gone. She was perfect again.

"I'm glad you came here tonight." He whispered, his eyes boring into hers with seriousness.

"Me too." She smiled, snaking her hands around his naked waist and pulling his body downwards.

He flashed her that Derek Morgan smile she had not seen for months before tracing kisses along her collarbone and down into the dip between her breasts. With one hand he softly pushed a bra strap off her shoulder, the fabric falling off and exposing right breast. He nipped and suckled at the plump flesh as she caressed the back of his head with her fingertips, a sensation she knew drove him wild. The more she teased his skin, the more fervent his attention to her became.

She felt his fingers brush her left shoulder as he rid her of the other bra strap and move his lips across. But only a split second later, his eyes were looking straight at hers.

"What the…..?" Was all he could say. He glanced back down to the clover shaped marking and then back up to her and saw the scared expression in her eyes.

"Did he do that to you?" He asked almost desperately, with an anger to his tone, knowing it was not there before Ian Doyle showed up.

She nodded, pressing her lips together. She knew she had to get this out of the way.

"He branded me." She uttered, her voice tiny and weak, "He wanted me to be his forever."

The words broke as they fell from her lips.

He shook his head, "You will _never_ be his." He growled.

And as she looked at him all she wanted was for him to tell her that she would never be Ian Doyle's because she was his. That she would always be his. But of course, Derek Morgan would never say that. He would never tell a woman she was his….

But that's exactly what he wanted to tell her…. That she was his…. if she wanted to be. She could be his forever and Ian Doyle, alive or dead, would never have a hold on her ever again.

And as they stared at each other, their gaze softened, floating back into their moment. She gently stroked his back and he ran his fingers through her hair before pecking her lips and then working his way downwards once again.

He hooked his arms under her, lifting her slightly, her back arching and exposing her neck fully to him. He kissed the dip at the bottom of her neck and quickly moved back to the four leaf clover. He began by gently nipping at the darkened skin, but soon kissed, licked and suckled it with determination….. And for a few moments, he wished Doyle was there to see it. To show him, _he_ had taken her back.

With his hands underneath her, he unclasped her bra and discarded the lingerie on the floor. He gave a solitary kiss to the flat piece of flesh in between her breasts before trailing down to her stomach. A breath caught in her throat as he made it to the big scar, but he didn't flinch. Or hesitate. Or avoid it. He gave it the same attention he did to every other piece of her. May be more. And she knew this was part of the reason she had come here tonight.

She had looked in the mirror every day since she had been well enough to get out of bed, and hated what she saw. She felt ugly… this big red patch of wiry skin desperately gripping on to itself in an attempt to heal. And every day, as it did heal, and the skin changed to a dull shade of purple, she still hated it. Hated what it stood for. Hated what it reminded her of.

But he was going to take that away. Even if only for the time she was with him, she knew the hatred would go away.

And it did…..

She felt his hands work the zipper on her pants as his mouth worked the skin of her stomach. He gripped at the waistband of the fabric and pulled the pants off in one movement, taking her panties with them.

He shifted his body back up hers and let his body weight press against hers, examining her for any sign that she was in pain. But that did not come. Instead she smiled at him and it was the first time he believed she actually meant that smile since she had been back.

He smiled back and it soon widened as he felt her hand brush the front of his joggers, his hardness straining against the loose fabric. She pushed the material, along with his boxers, over his hips and down to his thighs, letting him manoeuvre the rest of the way himself with something that resembled a shimmy.

They were lay there now, just flesh on flesh, and their hands explored as they kissed, deeply and hungrily. The distant memories of one another's bodies soon became intimately familiar once again.

He began to rock inside of her, initially staring into her eyes, but as if it all became too much, his body collapsed onto hers and he wrapped his arms around her, thrusting deeper and harder. Desperately. As if he was banishing every bad memory from his mind with every stroke.

She kissed all over his neck until his breaths became laboured and erratic and she felt him shudder against her. She gripped his arms and pushed him up so he was balanced above her.

"Am I hurting you?" He panted, his chest heaving.

"No." She smiled and shook her head, "I'm fine."

He paused and stared at her inquisitively. It was as if it were the first time he'd ever seen her.

"God you're beautiful." He whispered, and she could see a tear well in one of his eyes, "I can't believe you're here."

She cupped his face in her hands and guided his face to hers, kissing his lips lightly, then placing a couple of inches between them, so she could look him dead in the eyes, "I am." She whispered back, "I'm right here."

Gripping the tops of his arms, she pushed him off her and on to his back, straddling his hips as he nestled into the soft mattress. Smiling at her, he took both of her hands in his and entwined their fingers and she lowered herself on to him slowly, watching his eyes close and his face relax the more he immersed in her. She began to move on him, the strength of their grip keeping her balance. She waited for him to open his eyes before arching her back slightly, opening up and exposing her whole body to him. She wanted to know she trusted him. She trusted him to see all of her. To have all of her

He released the grip of one hand and traced his palm from the base of her neck, down the centre of her body, intoxicated by the feel of her soft skin on his. Both of his hands eventually came to rest on her hips and he aided her back and forth motion that became quicker and quicker with every second that passed. His thumb massaged her as he felt her get closer and closer to the brink, and he saw the expression on her face as if she were desperate for release.

He could see she was exhausted, so he pulled her down and she wrapped her arms around his neck, he taking up the majority of the work. They held on to each other tightly as they rocked harder and faster until he heard a tiny cry escape her lips, but not one of sadness, one of desperation.

"It's ok baby. Let go." He whispered in her ear, "Let go."

And that's all it took. Not a few seconds later, he felt her walls clamp down on him, a cry of pleasure fall from her, and her rib cage breathe heavy against his.

As her breaths drew longer she pushed herself up on to her elbows to look at him and smiled, "Hey." She uttered, closing the gap and kissing him deeply.

She began to rock her hips once again, and he wrapped his arms around her waist moving in time with her. As she felt his breathing begin to judder, she broke the kiss to look at him. His eyes were shut tight and his face a picture of contentment, as if he were a million miles away, but she knew he was right there with her, and as he came inside of her, she stifled his cries with another kiss.

As their heavy breaths began to subside, she lay her head on his chest and closed her eyes listening to the beat of his heart. She had done this so many times in the past and had always taken it for granted, something that she regretted laying alone in a darkened hospital room with not a soul she cared about to talk to. Right now, this was the best sound in the world to her.

And as he lay there, stroking her back, feeling her soft breath brush his skin, he realised…. he had not taken her back… she had returned herself to him and he'd be damned if he let her be taken again….. He would keep his word…. He would _never_ let her go.


End file.
